


Good

by yeaka



Series: A Honeycomb Tree [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blood, Collars, Dystopia, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Half-Mirrorverse, Leashes, M/M, Master/Servant, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock’s personal servant can be a needy little thing, but he’s still, somehow, enjoyable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Walk

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is set in an AU where the setting is similar to the mirror universe in some regards, but the characters are more similar to the regular ones. **Blanket warning** for the Terran Empire being a totalitarian dystopia with all its trickle-down issues, which tinges the servitude with hints of slavery. While this is written as a useless smuff piece, please be aware of the problematic fantasy elements and your own comfort levels.  
> ...Also, I won me some [NSFW FANART](http://botanycameos.tumblr.com/post/60240375951/spock-x-chekov-yaoi) out of BotanyCameos, and it's absolutely beautiful! Please click to check it out!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Scotty’s transwarp theory is nothing short of fascinating. It’s no wonder that the Empire’s considering confiscating it, which, of course, means studying it in the buried chapters of Section 31, far out of the reach of any other species. Should that happen, Spock wants as much of the theorem memorized and solved as possible. Even if it’s in the hands of people theoretically on his side, knowledge is power, and Spock intends to hold onto as much knowledge as he can. 

He’s just flipped to the next screen when he feels something against his leg. He glances down; Pavel’s nuzzling into his knee, twisted around the chair legs. Pavel’s often on all fours even in the privacy of their quarters, where formalities like that aren’t necessary. He crawls around to the side, rubbing his cheek against Spock’s pant leg. 

Spock reaches down to pet him absently, hardly even looking. Pavel makes a mewling sound, and Spock attempts to keep watching the screen, going over the practical example Scotty created by trying to apply the theory to Admiral Archer’s beagle. While he reads, his fingers brush through Pavel’s tight curls, sliding back and forth and slipping down to scratch behind Pavel’s ear, something that usually makes Pavel croon. This time isn’t any different. Spock can hear him breathing heavily. It reminds Spock vaguely of the sehlat he had when he was younger, although, of course, that was never for his other... urges. 

Pavel’s useful for a great number of things, including cleaning Spock’s quarters, preparing Spock’s meals, bringing him beverages when asked and even sorting files when instructed to. Pavel’s remarkably intelligent for a personal servant—one of the few that entered himself into the program post-graduation rather than setting a low goal early or later facing the rigorous and often violent upper-class level of starships—in some cases, Spock even allows him to do minor secretarial work, such as going through low-security Starfleet communications and dealing with anything beneath Spock’s station. He’s also very physically sound, and Spock believes he will be an adequate pon farr outlet. He’s pretty enough to garner Spock’s interest when Spock’s reduced to a blood fever, and he’s loyal and sturdy enough to take it. In the meantime, he’s good for less... demanding interests. 

He’s also illogical and overly affectionate in other cases, and he purrs too loudly and lifts up to nuzzle into Spock’s outer thigh. Spock stops petting him immediately, refusing to acknowledge poor behaviour. As Spock continues scanning Scotty’s report, he finds himself less than impressed with the blatant disregard for Admiral Archer’s prized pet, even if Scotty’s equation seemed faultless at the outset.

Pavel makes an unruly keening sound, whining and nudging at Spock’s side. Then he actually tries to climb up onto Spock’s lap, and Spock pushes him away, lightly slapping at Pavel’s curls and saying once in a firm tone, “Bad.”

Pavel pouts, whimpering pathetically and turning to crawl away. Spock forces himself not to stare at Pavel’s bare ass bobbing in the air, round and perky and entirely too delectable. It’s too early for such nonsense. It wouldn’t do to engage in primal behaviour while there is still work to be done, and Spock turns back to his console. 

He’s scanning through the outcome of the beagle incident—the results of which being less than desirable—when a rolled up leash lands in his lap. Pavel’s leash. Spock lifts an eyebrow, glancing down at it. Then he’s turning to look at Pavel, whose wide eyes are pleading and desperate for attention. He obviously brought the leash over in his mouth, like he does when he’s trying particularly hard to be irresistible. Sometimes having an eager servant is a good thing. Other times, it’s a definite hassle. 

Spock exhales, looking down at his naked pet. Pavel’s sitting on his legs with his hands in his lap, shoulders hunched protectively, perfect teeth biting his plush lower lip. His small, pink cock is semi-erect, but it often is, and Spock doesn’t have time to milk him more than twice a day. Their second time will have to wait until Spock’s done with his studying. Still, Pavel looks incredibly enticing. 

Why a civilian servant would want to be shown off along the halls of a starship, Spock has no idea. Clothing isn’t standard for them, and Spock certainly wouldn’t want to be paraded in front of hard-working officers wearing nothing, even if the quarters he were kept in were small and stifling. He’d much rather face the grueling demands of duty in his efforts to remain in the stars. But Pavel chose otherwise and often makes little sense, and somehow... Spock’s grown mildly attached to him anyway. His small, flawless figure is, undoubtedly, endearing. 

Then he begs, voice full of his Earth-Russian accent, “Commander, _please_?” And he strains the ‘please’ in a similar tone to the one he adopts during orgasms.

It’s very difficult to say no to that. Spock tries, sometimes, because he knows that a good pet requires discipline to flourish. However, Pavel is very difficult to punish—spankings only make him writhe too beautifully for Spock to resist him, and harsher punishments only make him cry too sadly for Spock not to comfort him. Eventually, Spock concedes, “Very well. A short one. And after that, you will allow me to work in peace.”

Pavel nods eagerly, tilting his neck to the side to give Spock better access to clip the leash to his collar. Spock gets out of his chair, bending over to do so. Then he straightens back up, giving it the obligatory tug to make sure it’s secure. Pavel submissively waits for him to be deemed ready.

When Spock gives a short nod of approval, Pavel lifts up on to his knees to kiss Spock’s crotch, bounding to his feet a second later. Even a short walk would probably be too long for Pavel’s delicate knees to endure without causing damage, so as long as they’re moving, Spock likes to keep him upright. He grabs Pavel’s chin and brings their lips together for a quick kiss before he heads out, because he likes a reminder of whom Pavel belongs to before displaying him for others. Pavel bats his eyes like he knows, and he stands still while Spock walks in front. 

The leash tugs, and Pavel obediently follows him out into the Enterprise, humming happily.


	2. Mistake

Pavel’s gone ahead and hurt himself. He’s crying about it, in a manner in which Spock refuses to acknowledge is cute (even though it completely is.) His tears are beading up in the corner of his eyes, trickling, shallow and small, down his rosy cheeks. He occasionally hiccups along with it, which makes very little sense, but so did climbing onto Spock’s dick without adequate preparation. 

Pavel often attempts to worship his master’s cock without prompting, pulling it out and licking it or kissing it or even sucking it in the hopes that Spock will pay him attention. If Spock has the time, he’ll indulge it for a few moments before inevitably sending Pavel away, whereas other times he’ll scold his pet from the get-go. Today he was lying on his back on the bed, attempting a specific kind of medication, and he’d let Pavel suck it a few times, getting it reasonably hard. He hasn’t milked Pavel yet today anyway. But then Pavel sat down on it without preparing himself, which was very foolish. 

And now he’s sitting on Spock’s lap, still fully impaled, thighs trembling too badly for him to push off. He’s completely naked as he always is, the collar thick around his neck and the leash from his earlier walk still trailing down his chest. His fingers are curled into his palms, trying to brush away his tears. He keeps whining a few syllables which Spock assumes are Earth-Russian for ‘ow.’

But it’s his own fault, and he has to learn. So Spock leaves him there, full and most likely sore. Pavel’s hole is incredibly tiny, ass near impossibly tight. It’s arguably tight enough to merit scientific attention, and Spock’s even done a few experiments on it—Pavel can’t take anything larger than Spock’s dick under any circumstances (even that is a strain) and he can keep anything inside him, no matter how small or slippery, without having to squeeze. He should therefore know that he must wet and stretch himself before attempting to ride things clearly out of his league. Spock watches him levelly and attempts to determine whether or not this is sinking in, but Pavel mostly seems to just be whimpering. 

So Spock exhales and closes his eyes, leaning back to continue meditating, despite the delicious heat now clutching at his cock. A good student of mediation should be able to clear one’s mind even in the most distracting of situations. 

But Pavel ruins it by whimpering, “M-master...” So Spock opens his eyes halfway, arching an eyebrow. “I-I zhink I am bleeding...”

“You are not bleeding,” Spock says calmly. “Although you are likely to if you attempt to pleasure me like this.”

“It feels like I am bleeding,” Pavel whines, even though Spock can’t feel any blood and is sure he would recognize that. 

Because Pavel has a tendency to look unreasonably adorable at times like this, Spock finds it inordinately difficult to say admonishingly, “It is best that you do bleed and receive medical attention afterwards so that you will be sure not to attempt such foolishness again.”

Pavel sniffs. But he nods, curls tumbling against his forehead. Honestly, he’s much too smart for this. Spock purposely wanted a servant with intelligence, and he’d believed he had one. Apparently, knowledge on advanced theoretical physics and physical common sense don’t go hand in hand. To be fair, Pavel is young. But youth is not an excuse. 

Pavel, ever diligent and eager, nods submissively. Then he lifts up on his shuddering legs, dropping down a second later and crying out in pain. Spock’s stomach tightens at the instant swell of pleasure, but he attempts to keep his voice steady as he informs his pet, “ _Now_ you are bleeding.”

Nodding again, Pavel mumbles shamefully, “I am a bad boy. I deserwe it.” And he does it again, whimpering pathetically and sticking out his tongue, mouth hanging open. Spock grunts as Pavel gains some height for the next drop, his small, pink cock slapping against him. He’s got both hands on Spock’s stomach, trembling fingers curled in Spock’s blue tunic. Pavel bounces himself up and down on Spock’s dick in a steady rhythm, feeling far too good. 

When Pavel pulls up high enough, Spock can see the red smear on his cock, and he tries to grumble through the heady ecstasy of being squeezed by such a tight ass, “This is unnecessary.”

“I... just want to please you...” Pavel says. His big hazel eyes look _so_ sincere, and even though he’s limp, he keeps going. He tries to roll his hips, wincing and still clenching his muscles. Spock’s far too hard, and he’s almost ashamed that seeing Pavel in pain doesn’t make him wilt at all. The fact that Pavel’s cheeks are flushed probably has something to do with it—his hiccups are undeniably adorable, and he’s wearing the same look he does when he’s being milked. Exhaling in irritation, Spock reaches forward and wraps his long fingers around Pavel’s cock. 

Pavel squeaks instantly, biting his lip and hunching his shoulders, sporting the smallest of smiles. Spock strokes him a few times, and despite the pain he’s obviously in, he grows hard. He croons, “You are so kind to me, master.” 

Spock nods in agreement, noting, “You are still expected to learn a valuable lesson from this.”

“I will behawe next time,” Pavel insists. “I’m sorry.” And he looks sorry, even as his eyes roll back in his head from his impending orgasm—he always comes much faster than Spock. With Spock’s considerable girth and knowledge of Pavel’s body, he usually hits Pavel’s prostate immediately. Under the dual stimulation, Pavel makes a high-pitched keening sound. Spock lifts his shirt up just in time for Pavel’s release to splatter his stomach rather than his clothing. Pavel screams beautifully while he comes, and it makes his ass spasm around the heavy cock inside him. 

Spock thrusts up a few times, bouncing Pavel higher in the air, and then he’s coming too. Pavel sits down and obediently stays there, letting himself be filled with Spock’s cum. Pavel even fidgets the way he knows Spock likes, making it pleasurable to the last drop. When he’s done, Pavel doesn’t move. 

Spock picks him up by the waist and lifts him off, depositing him next to Spock. Pavel reaches behind himself, probably rubbing his abused, stretched hole. 

Spock’s dick is covered in cum and blood, and he sits up, intent on a shower. But Pavel leans over and insistently licks at him, hazel eyes apologetically glancing up. Only because Pavel’s been bad, Spock allows him to lick up his own blood and his master’s cum. He cleans his own cum off Spock’s stomach too, and it almost tickles. Pavel kisses it when he’s done, lying down next to Spock (probably to avoid sitting on his ass) and he whispers, “I’m sorry.” He lies on his stomach, feet in the air and ass red. 

Spock simply reaches past him for the personal communicator on the nightstand. Spock flips it open and asks, “Dr. McCoy?”

 _“What?”_ The reply on the other end is as gruff as ever. _“This better be good—I think I finally just got Jim in for a physical.”_

“Excellent. When you are done with that, would you be able to stop by my quarters?”

There’s a pause, and then Dr. McCoy announces, _“If you’re asking me out, I’m turning you down.”_

Lifting an eyebrow despite Dr. McCoy’s inability to see it, Spock explains, “I am not ‘asking you out.’ My servant has hurt himself.”

_“Bring him to sickbay.”_

“I believe he should not walk in his current condition.”

_“So carry him.”_

Spock feels the distinct need to meditate again. He tries to explain as delicately as possible, “He is not currently fit for public viewing. It would be greatly appreciated if you brought a medkit to my quarters.”

 _“Alright, alright,”_ Dr. McCoy finally grunts, sounding intensely annoyed as though Spock hasn’t simply asked him to do his job. _“But then you better learn how to play with your toys without breaking them.”_ And he closes his end of the communication before Spock can correct his inaccurate assumption. 

As Spock places the communicator back on the nightstand, Pavel repeats, “I’m sorry.”

Spock wipes a thumb along Pavel’s left cheek, brushing away the tears. He does the same on the other side and says simply, “That is alright. Given the circumstances, you will not be spanked.”

Pavel nods and nuzzles into Spock’s side. “I will be better. I promise. I lowe you, master.”

Petting his soft curls, Spock concedes, “I find you marginally above adequate in a companionship capacity.”

Pavel beams.


End file.
